


Personal Dare

by bokuakabeam



Series: BokuAka Week 2020 [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beaches, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokuakabeam/pseuds/bokuakabeam
Summary: “Who dared you to—?”“Oh, I dared myself.”“You dared yourself to jump into the ocean at eleven o’clock at night, butt-ass naked?”
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: BokuAka Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856998
Comments: 1
Kudos: 65





	Personal Dare

**Author's Note:**

> Bokuaka Week 2020 Day Six -- Alternate First Meeting

The pack of cigarettes was burning a hole in Keiji’s pants pocket — not literally; he’s always careful and conscious enough to keep his lighter in a separate pocket. He rests his legs on the pedals, letting his bike sail smoothly along the sidewalk as the even terrain of the streets tilt slightly downhill. He’d wanted to quit, really he did. But the stress of moving paired with the constant nagging from his mother led Keiji to where he was now, pedaling down a street he’d barely caught the name of, heading towards the ocean.

Really, Keiji should consider himself lucky. They’d managed to get a small apartment not five minutes from the beach, enabling him to have a ‘vacation at the drop of a hat’ — something his mother had repeated daily to try and boost his mood. His mother had secured herself a highly sought-after position at a law firm, which almost guaranteed long weekday hours and weekends spent at the office. And once the summer was over, Keiji was all set to start university at a prestigious institution thanks to his high grades and boastful letters of recommendation from past teachers. So really, Keiji _should_ consider himself lucky.

But he didn’t.

The weather was nothing like he’d anticipated — they’d only been moved in for less than a week, and he wore a tank top and shorts when it was raining and windy, and he’d worn a sweater when the heat became sweltering by one in the afternoon. While his mother being gone more often than not was a plus, he still missed her reassuring smiles at the end of long days and home-cooked meals that, let’s face it, were way better than his own meals (which consisted of Ramen or cereal, if they were lucky enough to have milk in the fridge). He was overall excited to start his college courses — literature had always been his strong suit, so choosing that as his major had been the easiest decision of his life — but he was anxious about all of the unknowns that came with them: new peers, different rules, and an increased workload. Not to mention his mother nagging on him at every turn, when she wasn’t at work that is, to go out more. She was worried about his lack of a social life.

Now here he was, gliding on his bike down the hill from their apartment complex, and towards the beach. Keiji had never experienced the beach at nighttime, so he was curious to see what kind of people frequented after ten pm. Would there be college-aged kids like himself, drinking and partying around a bonfire? Or would there be middle-aged couples going for a stroll along the seam between the sand and ocean? What he hadn’t expected, as he slid to a stop on the sand, was the vast emptiness along the oceanside. The sun was far beyond the horizon, having set a couple hours prior, and darkness now shrouded the beachfront. His eyes scanned along the shore, watching the sullen blue-black waves wash up onto the sand before dragging back into place.

Without breaking his gaze from the water in front of him, Keiji set himself up on a patch of grass beyond the sand, pulling his legs up to his chest. The cigarette slid easily from its place in the pack, and with a few clicks from his lighter he inhaled, bringing the smoke deep into his lungs before exhaling. Smoke lazily drifted from his mouth, the dull burning sensation in his chest and throat stinging only slightly, another sign that he’d been smoking for quite some time. When he’d first picked up the habit, it was psychologically difficult for Keiji to correctly intake the nicotine since he wasn’t used to breathing in anything that wasn’t air. It was a lot like trying to breathe underwater; breathing in the smoke was like breathing thick, condensed air. And for a while, Keiji would just let the smoke sit in his mouth for a little while before letting it escape his lips. Finally, however, after months of trying, Keiji overcame his inhibitions and began smoking properly.

He hated it.

His head would hurt, his throat would burn, and his clothes would constantly smell like a fucked-up combination of household chemicals. But one day, naturally after deciding he would no longer continue trying, it happened. His headache dispersed, the burn was becoming tolerable in his body, and the smell was nice, almost welcomed. Since then, it became a habit he hadn’t been able to break, much to the chagrin of his mother. So he sat, a calm breeze fanning across his exposed skin and pushing his hair from his forehead, holding the lit cigarette lazily between his pointer and middle finger. The smoke that left his lips aimlessly danced in the air surrounding him before it dispersed into the night. Keiji could feel the tension in his shoulders relax and the stress in his chest unfurl as he continued with his cigarette, listening to the gentle swell of the tide as it moved across the sand.

  
It was only when he reached for the pack, intending to light a second cigarette, when he heard it. A distant sound which, if the current had been stronger, would have been lost in the night. However, Keiji heard it, and he turned towards the increasingly-approaching noise. A man, probably several yards adjacent to where Keiji was, was running towards the sand, discarding his clothing at a rapid pace while shouting. First his shoes and socks, and Keiji watched as he stumbled, losing his footing as he tried to take them off while continuing his pace. Then came the shirt which, much to Keiji’s delight, revealed nicely-sculpted muscles that he could see flex even in the pale moonlight. Lastly the pants and boxers came down in one swift motion, and Keiji was kind enough to avert his gaze.

“Ah, holy _fuck_!” He heard the man shout, and Keiji watched in near-horror as this now nude man descended into the ocean, completely submerging himself underwater.

Keiji sat up straight, watching woefully for the head of hair to pop back up. It seemed like hours, days, years even, had passed by, and the man was nowhere to be found. Keiji quickly clambered up, abandoning his cigarettes and lighter on the ground as he darted across the sand, eyes scanning the water.

Boisterous splashing and a loud gasp, and Keiji found himself fallen back on his ass, having shot backwards at the abrupt movement in the water.

“Jesus fuck, a-are you okay?” Keiji asked, his hands digging in the sand as he propped himself up on them, finally catching the gaze of the unknown night swimmer.

“Are you talkin’ to me?” The man asked, looking around and behind himself, and Keiji couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“ _Yes_ I’m talking to you,” Keiji said, annoyed. “You almost drowned just now!”

“Wha’? No I didn’t,” the man assured as he shook his head aggressively, much like a dog, to rid the loose droplets of saltwater that clung to his hair. “I can hold my breath for, like, seven minutes, or somethin’ like that.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s humanly impossible,” Keiji furrowed his brows, taking a moment to digest this man’s appearance from a closer distance. He was right in his determination that this man was muscled as _fuck_ , his torso and arms thick, but not overly so. His hair, which had been spiked up from what Keiji could assess before, was now hanging limply in his face and clinging to the skin of his neck. And, thankfully, his bottom half was still hidden by the water as the man leisurely floated in his vicinity.

“Actually!” The man perked up, his eyes glistening in the moonlight as he spoke. “There was this German dude that held his breath for, like, 22 minutes, I think. It’s a world record!”

Keiji made a mental note to check that factoid when he got home.

“Anyway,” the man continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “I hope I di’n’t scare ya or nothin’. I do this all the time. It was kind of a dare.”

It was Keiji’s turn to look around at their surroundings, looking behind him to see if there was another person, a friend of this man, who would have dared him to do such a thing in the dead of night. “Who dared you to—?”

“Oh, I dared myself.”

“You dared _yourself_ to jump into the ocean at eleven o’clock at night, butt-ass naked?” Keiji asked incredulously.

“Hey, don’t say it like that! It makes me sound insane.”

“I think you may be certifiably insane, dude.”

“Koutarou.”

“I think you may be certifiably insane, Koutarou.”

Koutarou grinned wickedly, spinning himself in a slow circle against the ocean’s current. “So, mystery beach man, did you like the view?”

“The _view_?” Keiji repeated, chuckling despite himself. “Not much of a view.”

“What, too busy photosynthesizing to focus on a delectable snack darting across the beach?”

“Photosynthesizing happens during the day, stupid.”

“Potato, po-tah-to,” Koutarou’s grin never wavered, even at Keiji’s insult. “So what were you doing out here so late at night?”

“Well, I wasn’t daring myself to skinny dip, that’s for sure,” Keiji retorted with a huff, crossing his arms petulantly.

“Hey, uh…” Koutarou started, raising a hand in Keiji’s direction and pausing, waiting for Keiji to answer his unasked question.

“Keiji.”

“Keiji,” Koutarou smiled warmly. “Could you do me a favor and pass me my clothes? I think my balls have _actually_ shriveled up into my body, and I don’t think they’ll ever descend again at this rate.”

Keiji crinkled his nose as Koutarou laughed loudly, but silently stood and collected Koutarou’s things that were scattered along the sand. Once he’d gotten everything, even the shoes that had been haphazardly tossed back onto the grass, he went back over to a shivering Koutarou.

“Th-Thanks, K-Keiji, ‘preciate it.” Koutarou began to walk forwards out of the water only for Keiji to scramble backwards a bit, averting his eyes. “You can look, Keiji. We’re both dudes.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean I want to see every person’s dick. Here,” Keiji thrusted the belongings out in front of him and kept his gaze trained on the sand off to the side. He heard Koutarou grunt as he stepped into the cool night air, and he felt the slick skin of Koutarou’s hands as they brushed his, taking the clothes from his grasp.

“‘Kay, Keij, you can look now,” Koutarou said, and Keiji slowly brought his gaze back up to the man. It was now, since they were much closer, that Keiji realized that Koutarou was taller than him, and _much_ thicker than he’d originally thought. Keiji cleared his throat and his mind, and gave Koutarou a small smile.

“Better?”

“Yep,” Koutarou grinned, popping the ‘p’. “I don’t think I’ll be darin’ myself to do anythin’ like that anytime soon, at least until the weather is warmer.”

Keiji hummed and, thinking their interaction was now over, began making his way back to his bike. Maybe if he hurried, he could get another cigarette in before his mother started worrying about his whereabouts.

“So what _were_ you doing out here then, Keiji?” Koutarou jogged a few steps to catch up to Keiji, falling easily into a stride alongside him.

“I just needed to get away, some time to think,” Keiji spoke slowly, being vague, but hopefully answering the question well enough not to prompt further questioning. “Listen, you’re not gonna rob me or anything, right? Because stranger danger and all. I think I have a whistle in my pocket.”

Koutarou snorted before letting out a loud bark of laughter, shaking his head. “I think you had the upper hand in this interaction, Keij. I was naked for most of our introduction, and you brought me my clothes. I think if anybody should be concerned, it should be me, don’t you think?”

“I think you could still kick my ass in a fight, even if you were exposed,” Keiji said, immediately regretting the lack of a censor on his thoughts.

“Oho, really?” Koutarou tilted his head to the side, peering at Keiji with a teasing grin. “You look like you could put up a mean fight, Keiji.”

“Koutarou you have, like, thirteen abs. There is no chance of me winning a fight against you.”

“Pfft,” Koutarou hissed a laugh through his teeth. “I was thinkin’ you’d be too distracted by my dazzlin’ good looks and would immediately admit defeat.”

“I’m not that easy,” Keiji teased, shooting a smirk to the man next to him before realizing his mistake. He was already flirting with this man. “Either way, neither of us are in any danger, so this conversation is pointless.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say pointless. I was quite enjoying myself.” Koutarou heaved a sigh as he plopped down alongside Keiji in the grass. “Can I bum one?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” Keiji handed Koutarou a cigarette, lighting his own before holding out the lighter for him to grab.

Instead, much to Keiji’s bewilderment, Koutarou leaned forward until their faces were mere inches away from each other, and pressed the tip of the cigarette taut between his lips against Keiji’s. Once it was effectively lit, and Koutarou sent Keiji a sinful look when their eyes met, Koutarou leaned back, creating more distance between them. Keiji was at a loss for words, letting his mind wander as the two men sat side by side; the only sound between them aside from crash of waves in the ocean being their soft exhales accompanied by puffs of smoke. He couldn’t get that look out of his head, the closeness of their lips, even with two cigarettes between them. Those golden eyes.

“So what’s your damage?”

“Excuse me?” Keiji sputtered.

“Your damage,” Koutarou repeated, tilting his head like a puppy dog. “Like, what’s wrong with you? Or, what’s your baggage? You’ve really never seen Heathers?”

Keiji scoffed but didn’t answer right away. “I’ve seen Heathers.”

“Good movie, right?”

“And I don’t have any damage,” Keiji finished, ignoring Koutarou’s interjection. “I don’t know why you’re insinuating that I do.”  
  
“Everybody has damage, Keiji. There’s not a single person on the planet that doesn’t have at least a little baggage. Haven’t you seen that episode of How I Met Your Mother—?”

“Is that your baggage? Quoting movies and television shows?” Keiji interrupted, frowning.

“You couldn’t handle my baggage, Keiji,” Koutarou spoke, his voice serious, as he gazed out into the night. Keiji admired Koutarou’s profile, watching his jaw flex slightly as he took in another inhale of his diminishing cigarette. “But I do like quoting shit. It’s kinda my thing.” And his warm smile was back.

Keiji liked it better when Koutarou had a smile on his face. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew that he wanted to be the one to put it there as well.

“I don’t really have a thing,” Keiji drawled, letting his mind turnover Koutarou’s words. “I like to write, I guess. Maybe that can be my thing.”

“Really?” Koutarou perked up, turning his body so he was now facing Keiji as he talked. “What do you write?”

“Just…” Keiji trailed off, trying to think of how to phrase what he was going to say next. “Just things that come to mind, I guess. Like events that happen in my life, or… Y’know, shit like that. Pretty boring.”

“That doesn’t sound boring, Keiji. That sounds really interesting.” Koutarou looked so sincere, so honest, that Keiji almost believed him.

“Whatever you say,” Keiji mumbled, bringing his knees up to his chest and hugging his legs. He kept his gaze averted once again, not being able to handle the earnestness that rang throughout Koutarou’s expression.

Koutarou hummed, taking another long drag before stubbing it out on the sand. He stood up, extinguished cigarette filter in hand, and appraised Keiji from his full height.

“See you later, Keiji. Maybe I’ll catch your name on a book one of these days,” he grinned, nodding once before slowly meandering away. Keiji watched Koutarou’s back — the water from his hair had long since dried — and smiled a little to himself when he saw Koutarou toss the stub into a nearby trash can.

_Maybe I’ll catch your name on a book one of these days_.

Keiji couldn’t help but hope that he sees Koutarou a lot sooner rather than later.

**Author's Note:**

> My [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bokuakabeam)


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